


All Things Are Possible

by Magisey



Series: Sea of Stars [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Please note the choose not to use warnings, Reincarnation, Spirit Animals, Star-crossed, Tanabata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11415576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magisey/pseuds/Magisey
Summary: He remembers his promise.To protect him no matter what.





	All Things Are Possible

**Author's Note:**

> Partially beta read by Skyli

He remembers the first bullet. It sinks into his skin and bowls him over. Its hot fire and scorching lead in his chest. Jesse lies on the ground, staring at the sky, unable to accept what has happened. There’s more shots, filling him full of more bullets. They don’t hurt, not like the first one.

A shadow crosses his face, the man, his killer, lording over him. Jesse can’t make out much, other than the tilt of his grin that matches his lopsided hat. The urge to curse rises and as he opens his mouth, blood bubbles out.

Air. Air. There was no air. There is no panic either. Everything washes away, the numbness dragging him down.

It is a hot summer’s day, high noon, in the sleepy lil’ town of Santa Fe.

 

It is the day Jesse Mccree died.

\---

 

The pain of the first bullet rushes back to him as he is drug from the depths. It happens so fast, dizzying. Faint memories of another life - cactus, revolvers, swinging doors, cow rustlers, chaps - touch at the edges of his memories. They are like dreams, the harder he tries to catch them, the further away they float.

He growls in frustration, the noise boiling from his throat.

There is a boy in front of him. His eyes are sharp and full of fear. He wears a simple robe of dark blue, his long hair caught in a ponytail. It looks as if he has been blown back by something, legs askew as he stares at Jesse. It smells like flowers and something grassy in the room. The floor is thin and like straw. The grand arches are a deep red, ornate in styling. It is so different from everything he has ever known.

What style? What has he known? Pain spikes through his mind. Another growl comes from Jesse’s throat. Agony from the bullet rushes in, buried in his chest. Buried right there, just out of touch.

Pain and confusion swamp him as he approaches the boy. One step at a time, the nasty growl rising in his throat. It’s difficult to move, there’s so much coordination involved. He lists this way and that like a drunk. He’d make the kid pay for this pain.

“Hanzo!”

The voice is sharp, coming from behind him, elsewhere. The little boy, still scared, looks over at someone behind Jesse’s shoulder.

“You must claim him. Tame him. You are Shimada.”

That seems to trigger something. The little scared boy squares his shoulders. He slowly stands. Jesse figures he can’t be older than twelve. Still hasn’t hit puberty, lanky body with strong muscles that don’t quite fit. He’ll be a strong man, if he lives past this.

The boy holds a hand out, palm down, and speaks loudly and clearly.

“My name is Hanzo Shimada.”

Jesse stops short. Something is over taking him, controlling him. Panic wells in his chest.

“You are my guardian.”

No. Something is wrong. Something is so wrong. The pain of the bullet is there, burning burning on his skin. He opens his mouth to speak, but instead of a blood bubble bursting out, there is a broken howl.

Something in the boy’s resolve steels, solidifying. Jesse whimpers, hunkering down to the ground, his body broken and battered.

“You will obey me and only me.”

Jesse understands now. Understands why he hurts. Understands why he can’t walk straight. The claws, the new shape of his body, the weight of his tail, the odd sensation of fur on his skin, the four paws - Too much too soon. It’s wrong. He remembers being bipedal and walking in the sunshine and drinking alcohol. He remembers the bullet, always there, the last memory so strong. He remembers being human, of the freedom and pain that brought.

He remembers the bullet.

He crumples, weakened and defeated. Hanzo approaches him and Jesse prepares for a new bullet. Would this one follow him to where-ever he goes next?

Instead, a hand settles on his muzzle. Soft, affectionate strokes cause him to stiffen.

“I will take care of you.”

He’s twelve, but Jesse believes it. He closes his eyes and lets the world fade away.

 

\---

 

At first Jesse stays in a dark place, kept from the light. He’s called upon by Hanzo, but mostly he’s left in the dark. He rests there, sleeps, ponders the new world.

 

Slowly, but surely, they grow closer.

Slowly, Jesse becomes fond of his master.

 

\---

 

Hanzo is smart and flexible. He likes to sit below the old trees and watch the flowers float by. He likes to pet Jesse’s ears and hum little songs. He likes black licorice and tea and cherry trees.

Hanzo is very much a kid, but he rarely gets to be one. Most of his time is parceled out between lessons and training. Training, Hanzo tells him, is his favorite. He can move and use his strength, to burn off that extra energy.

Lessons are not fun. He is not taught, Jesse realizes, but told. Here are the facts. Accept them. There is always someone who knows more than Hanzo. His father, his mother, the elders. No one asks what Hanzo thinks - they already know. They have told him.

Hanzo tells Jesse though, all his thoughts. The little and the big; The frightening and the hopeful. Jesse accepts them as he accepts Hanzo. Someone growing into a world that is far more rigid and unfriendly than the memories he has.

“Do you think it’s silly to dream?” Hanzo whispers as he strokes Jesse’s ears.

_Nah, darlin’. Dreamin’ is a’part of life. It’s good t’dream._

 

\---

 

While life always seems too cold to bear, there is one warm spot. Hanzo’s history teacher, Nagasaki Sensei, is kind and fosters his curiosity. She gives him pointed questions and never lets him fall back on the family rhetoric. At first, Jesse knows it bothers Hanzo. And then, he is happy to see, it makes him calm and insightful.

Jesse flops his head onto Hanzo’s lap, earning a happy chuckle from his boy. His boy. There are still memories on the edge of his mind, things that don’t add up: A summer heat that is unbearable, dusty dunes that could bury a man whole, and the wide open expanses of stars overhead. None of those he finds it Hanamura. While Hanzo learns to question, Jesse learns to accept.

“Today we will be talking about religion, including Buddhism.” Jesse only listens idly, focusing mostly on the scratching behind his ear.

“When one life ends, another begins. It is this cycle of reincarnation that keeps the universe going.” Jesse stops and looks up. There’s a holo chart depicting a circle of arrows.

 

Life. Death. Rebirth.

Over and over again.

 

Something stirs in his heart, a whimper escaping before he can stop it.

“Do you believe that the guardians were once… something else?” Jesse is glad Hanzo understands him, understands the feelings that this thing brings up. The teacher hums and taps her fingers against the table.

“It is not something that I have heard of before,” Crestfallen, he flops his head back into his master’s lap and whuffs an unhappy sigh, “But that doesn’t mean it is impossible. All things are possible in some way, or another.”

“All things?” Hanzo’s sly smile peeks out behind his normal stoic facade.

Nagasaki Sensei’s warm laugh eases some of the worry in Jesse’s mind, “Yes… All things.”

Jesse knows what Hanzo is thinking. There’s an arcade and ramen shop and a few sweet shops in the alleys surrounding the Castle. There is so much out there, a fingers breadth away, but not for him.

 

All things are possible.

Maybe even Freedom.

 

\---

 

A month passes, and Jesse continues to question. It isn’t right for Hanzo to be the only one to challenge the world. Jesse needs to as well. They go to the history lesson, eager for more, and stop short just inside the door. A man in a severe looking suit is standing where their sweet teacher usually is. Hanzo stiffens and Jesse’s hackles rise.

“Shimada-sama, my name is Adachi. I am your new teacher.”

“What happened to Nagasaki Sensei?” Jesse pushes in front of Hanzo. It is his job to protect the boy, summoned or not. If others could see him, or not. He would not let anything happen to his boy.

“She resigned.” The cold finality of those words silence Hanzo. Sadness swamps their bonded connection, but the stoic mask is back. If Adachi can tell, he says nothing. They work through the lesson. It is boring, and like the others, more about telling Hanzo facts than letting him learn.

Hanzo cries himself to sleep that night, face pressed into Jesse’s fur.

 

All things are possible.

But it doesn’t seem like that right now.

 

\---

 

Hanzo is older now. Grown into his body more, puberty taking his voice down an octave. He is hairier and smellier but still he likes black licorice and tea and the cherry trees. He still loves to cuddle with Jesse and tell him stories. He still has his guardian by his side at all times.

Except for tonight. Hanzo tells him to stay in the dark space, to not come even if he is called. Jesse waits anxiously, feeling their bond strain. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

There is pain and misery swarming through their faint connection. Jesse howls, the burn of the bullet ripping his skin apart. He howls and cries and waits for relief.

Hanzo returns in the morning with bloodshot eyes and staggering steps. Long red welts cover his arms and legs. As soon as they are within the room, Jesse leaves the dark space. He whimpers and pushes into Hanzo and that’s all it takes.

Hanzo crumples, wrapping his arms around the big wolf’s neck, and sobs. Just like he sobbed when his favorite teacher was taken away. Just like he would cry after long nights of training or particularly rough days. Hanzo shakes and cries, only moving when Jesse carefully corals him into his futon.

“For Genji.” He whispers and Jesse understands.

Because the world is not kind to Hanzo, but it is to Genji. There are sacrifices. Some of them paid tonight.

 

All things are possible.

Jesse holds out hope for freedom, while a little bit of his friend dies.

 

\---

 

“And you are a worthless fool!” Jesse whimpers, ears tucked low when Hanzo brings his hands down on the table, clattering the silverware. The boy across from him looks a little like Hanzo, but he has green hair and a flippant attitude that boggles Jesse’s mind.

Genji shrugs and sips on his water, “Worthless? Such strong language. You too could go out and have fun.”

Jesse can feel the emotions boiling in Hanzo, and his own too. Genji is selfish and blind to all that Hanzo has endured. The lessons, the loneliness, the pain. The beatings. All so Genji can sit across from Hanzo and tell him that no, he won’t listen to his father. No, he won’t do his chores. No, he won’t go to the meetings. It is always no.

“Get out!” Hanzo screams and Jesse roars, the howl shaking him to his core. Genji gets up and walks away, stopping short of leaving the room fully.

“You don’t have to do this, Anija. You just don’t.”

All things are possible.

But tonight, hearing that he could have avoided all his pain is not something Hanzo can accept. Jesse stops his master from harming the fleeing Genji.

Hanzo crumples over him, angry, bitter sobs pressed against his neck, “I’m so sick of crying,” He mutters into the fur. Jesse whimpers, tucking a cold wet nose to his jaw.

_And I’m sick of you hurtin’, darlin’._

 

\---

 

Jesse remembers being sixteen, oddly. A time where so many hormones were crushing his lil brain and heart, making everything feel bigger than it was. He also remembers being butt ass ugly and covered in zits, too.

Not Hanzo. No. Hanzo is filled with a grace and power that ripples in his movements. Groomed from a young age to be something more. His hair is long and gathers at the base of his neck in a pony tail. His tattoo is now done, the long sleeve a daring blue and covered in wolves. Hanzo looks good.

Others start to notice too. Elders start setting him on dates and girls start flirting with him. There’s a new complicated aspect of their life, one that Hanzo is so scared about that not even their bond lets Jesse know.

He finds out one night, stirred from his slumber and summoned on accident by his boy.

Hanzo is sat in bed, his blankets in a pool around his waist, his pants down to his knees. Jesse realizes a few things with a start.

His friend is crying, silently, and his nails are scratching at his bare arms, leaving long, red angry marks. Whimpering, Jesse puts his head on the edge of the bed and waits until Hanzo pulls from his thoughts to sniffle and look at the wolf.

“I… I am…” Hanzo shudders, “Disgusting.”

Disgusting? The wolf looks around and notices a magazine - one of those sorts. Girls in various positions in various states of undress. There’s weird pixely censoring here and there, but Jesse has to admit it’s still pretty hot.

 _Ain’t nothing wrong with a lil’ self love, sugar._ Jesse assures, nosing an arm he hopes is clean.

Hanzo shakes his head and Jesse waits. Ever the patient hunter.

“It’s not… It’s not that. I just… I can’t. I can’t get,” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Understanding washes across their bond.

No attraction. There’s none. Something Jesse had mistaken for the epitome of gentlemanliness was really just having zero interest in the cute gals that the elders presented. So much worry is there, crushing Jesse.

He was worried one time too. But back in those days, someone gave you shit you could kill them. It wasn’t like home, here. It was different.

Again, with more tenderness, _Ain’t nothing wrong with a lil’ self love, sugar._

That startled look would be cute if Jesse didn’t feel so keyed up. Like he had just admitted something big, and maybe he has. Before he can worry, a gentle hand pets his head. It feels like summer on his fur. Like the warmth of a long hug.

“My friend. My one friend. I love you.”

Jesse sleeps on the bed that night, Hanzo curled against him. The girly mag is kept under the mattress as a decoy. Tomorrow or the next day they’ll go out and hunt down the right stuff, the sort of thing that’ll get Hanzo going.

 

Anything is possible.

Including, Jesse realizes in the middle of the night, falling in love with your master.

 

\---

 

“See through the wolf’s eyes.”

Jesse springs from the bow, following the path of the arrow. It lands into a solid wall of a closed room. Gliding through the wall like casper, he is washed in darkness. Despite the thick blanket of shadows, Jesse can see as if it were high noon. Three training dummies stand at various positions.

_Two of ‘em have those repeating shotty guns and one has a bow. They’re facing the east side. Can you see ‘em?_

“I can. Thank you, my friend.” He’s far away, but Jesse can hear the rumble on his skin, the gratitude there across their bond. Jesse returns, settling inside Hanzo, in that dark space of home. The bow is drawn tight, his energy summoned.

“The wolf hunts for its prey!”

Jesse springs from the end of the bow, electricity crackling across his body. He howls with glee, the wind catching his jaws as they tear through the building and the targets therein. Hanzo’s directions guide him - First the shot guns and then the bow. Jesse’s body twists and turns, taking them all out with snapping teeth and scratching claws.

At the end, he returns to normal and pads back to Hanzo. There is a pleased grin spreading over Hanzo’s face. Only in training can the Shimada heir be truly free.

“Well done, my friend. You have served me well.”

They work for hours a day, on summoning and directions. They even create a system where Jesse feeds Hanzo information. There are many words he has to learn and things to be remembered.

 

\---

 

Lessons don’t so much stop as Hanzo gets older, but their tone changes. Now there’s lessons in economics and politics. There’s a heavier emphasis on attending long, boring meetings.

Jesse knows he can sleep, Hanzo has told him such, but he feels wrong leaving him alone. So instead he sits regally beside his master, knowing not a single person at the table has the sight to see him. Still, the bond tells him Hanzo is more confident with him there. He is calmed.

There are times when there are those with the sight, and they send Jesse away. They make him return to slumber. Hanzo orders him then, unlike his polite requests. Jesse is brought to heel by a spoken command and an unspoken apology. Those are the meetings that take the most out of Hanzo.

Hanzo Shimada is seventeen years old and he still likes black licorice and tea and cherry trees. He still dreams of freedom, but no longer of the alleys around the castle. Those, he has explored. He’s grown strong and wise enough to dodge the guards.

They spend some nights outside the high walls of Shimada Castle, eating snacks and observing life without the black mark of Yakuza royalty on their skin. Jesse is happy to spend these moments together. Even if the stress is to come, they have one another.

Most nights, they curl up and plot adventures. Going below the sea and watching strange fish. Going to the moon. Where they will spend the summer. Where they will go when Hanzo decides to leave. Something in the sad, wistful look of Hanzo’s eyes says none of it will happen, that it’s all a ruse, but Jesse keeps pushing. Keeps the little spark of hope alive.

 

He won’t let them kill anymore of his best friend.

 

\---

 

“See through the wolf’s eyes.”

Jesse moves fast and low, sticking to the shadows. He knows no one can see him, but it’ll calm Hanzo down a mite. Needs it, with how much his pulse is thundering away in his veins.

The arrow is embedded into one of two thick pillars that frame a locked door, but it might as well have been unlocked. Jesse slips through and observes.

It smells like cigarettes and weed and sex in there. There’s the high popping sound of poker chips and the low shuffling of voices. Hazy smoke covers the air like a toxic mist. The table in the center is cluttered on all sides by Yakuza. There are two few bodyguards on the far side and two on either side of where Jesse stands now, right beside the door. The big boss is at the back in the center of the table. He has a woman draped across his lap, her shirt partially opened to reveal a single tit.

_Lotta folk, ‘zo. More than we reckoned when we first got the intell. Four guards, two right beside the main door, two at the back. Lotsa men._

“Do you recognize any of the clan there?”

 _Nah._ Jesse knows their scents. They stink just like the elders. Only Hanzo and Genji smell decent to his nose.

“Is she there?”

The woman draped across the big boss moans sinfully, her body wiggling as his hand gives her a fondle.

_‘Fraid so. Guess that means you’re off the hook._

“Indeed it does.” Hanzo is pissed and relieved, Jesse can tell from the bond. Wasn’t everyday you got an official engagement to a bonafide Yakuza prince and then went and flushed it away by whoring yourself out. Then again, Akira wasn’t like many gals. Making a fool out of Hanzo was one of the quickest ways to get on Jesse’s shit list.

He’d enjoy eating her.

“Let us proceed. Take out the door guards at the front and back. Destroy the boss and Akira. If you can get any of the other men, please do so. I will be in moments afterwards for clean up.”

_Sure thing, Sugar._

Jesse retreats, returning to the dark coiled space that was his new home. He only came there for sleep, but it is familiar. Hanzo’s strongest here. After all, it was his soul.

“The wolf hunts for its prey!”

The call is the loudest yet, blasting Jesse forward like a rocket. Howling in glee, he bursts open the locked doors. Immediately, confusion and screams of terror blossom around him. They stand to run, but are too slow.

Jesse rips apart the guards by the door, savoring their blood. He even manages to grab a few men as he coils to grab the back guards. Then, the final touches.

 

Akira is scrambling to get away, the boss of this shindig holding out an uzi. Aimed at Jesse. What a laugh.

_Cute little fucker. No weapon can harm me._

He mangles the gun to a pulp and then the bosses soft, fleshy body. It feels good, this wanton destruction of those who have hurt his Hanzo.

Akira is especially sweet. He snaps her down, leaving not even a bloody carcass behind.

Moments after the first screams, Hanzo is there. Each arrow finds its mark in someone’s neck or forehead.

They retreat after the carnage is done, the police called on a burner phone that is smashed to pieces. Streaks of blood lick up Hanzo’s high cheekbones and something twists in Jesse’s gut, heavy and hot. Something he hasn’t felt except for in far flung dreams. He tamps it down before the bond will let it through.

They report to the Shimada-gumi what has transpired, Hanzo getting full praise for his control and masterful abilities.

That night, as they curl in bed, Jesse whuffs a huff of air against Hanzo’s neck. The archer giggles, fingers carding into his fur. It is warm and reassuring and just what Jesse needs.

“I will always take care of you.”

Jesse doesn’t know why Hanzo is saying it, but the sentiment is returned ten fold.

 

\---

 

_So why’re we here now, sug?_

“It’s a tradition for Genji and me. We come to the temple to pray for our Tanabata wish to come true.” Hanzo is murmuring softly, his head downcast and hands together to appear as if he’s praying as he explains everything to Jesse. Genji is already inside, though Jesse is sure Genji’s memo has a misprint. Here he is, preying on the cute lil shrine maidens instead of praying to them. Hanzo clucks his tongue, shoulders going tense as he watches.

_No big thing, darlin’. Just let him be. Shall we go?_

“Actually, you must stay out here.” Hanzo looks sad as he glances down at Jesse, “The charms around the temple ward off evil spirits. Not that you are one, but you _are_ a spirit. I would hate for you to come to harm.”

Ah. Jesse wanted to hear what little thing Hanzo was going to whisper as he prayed, but that was fine. Sitting out here suits him just as well. Nodding, the big dog sits down in the center of the court yard and gives a single, happy bark of acceptance.

Better this way anyway, Jesse realizes as Hanzo leaves. Strange energy all around here. Reminds him of being near the elders and their seeing eyes. Something that could just tear him to shreds.

There aren’t many folks around, but the couple handful are walking around him. Serves him well. Getting walked through was the pits.

“Tanabata, what an interesting holiday. Some find it romantic.” Jesse curiously looks around. The voice is calm and smooth, like a monk's. But no one is near.

“Though, I would find myself hard pressed to think you would agree. Isn’t that right, Jesse?” He scrambles, caught off guard by the name and the close presence. A man stands in front of him.

The man is tall and willowy. Regal orange and red swath his frame, his eyes a thin molten brown. There is energy billowing off him, licking at the sky. Guardians can see other guardians. This was no guardian.

Jesse Mccree had never been a religious man, but if this is what folks came upon from time to time, why… It made sense that they would be worshipped.

“Orihime and Hikoboshi, separated by the sea of stars, only to be reunited for one night a year. Their love so strong that they continue the cycle endlessly.”

Where is Hanzo? Jesse tries to get his wits about him, but he feels naked. Laid bare. Whatever this thing is saying, it hurts his heart. Why?

“Why? Of course, you can’t remember every time you have done this dance. Of course not.” Jesse doesn’t like this thing, but the look of pity in its eyes he likes even less, “Star crossed lovers, so close and yet world's away. You do not deserve this. Neither of you do. Fate… Can be cruel.”

No. Jesse doesn’t want to accept the words, because there’s a lot there. There’s so much there to unpackage. This has happened before, between Hanzo and Him. It seems right, like a glove finding its missing mate. It just fit.

More than that, it implies that Hanzo - as he is right now - returns the feelings Jesse has.

And yet there’s nothing they can do about it.

Jesse howls and stumbles back. Tears crawl down. The bullet. He can feel it in his skin, buried in his lungs. He can feel a sword slash on his gut and blindness and numbness and and and -

“Peace be upon you.” The creature touches his head and the panic recedes. Jesse is left with warm tranquility, “I apologize. I spoke carelessly. Do not fear, Jesse. When one cycle ends, another begins.”

There’s still so much, so so so much. He just can’t process it. Jesse closes his eyes and sinks down into the dark place. Retreats from the weighted words.

 

All things are possible.

Including a never ending cycle of always missing your lover.

 

\---

 

Jesse never fails. He is ruthless and efficient in taking orders.

Yet he fails in something bigger, something so much bigger.

He fails Hanzo. Fails the promise.

Because when Jesse was too busy trying to figure out what was happening in his mind, in his memories;

While Hanzo is too busy taking care of the clan and working on hit jobs and training;

Jesse forgets. Forgets that he has made a vow to keep the elders and poisonous clan from killing more of his best friend.

And yet.

Hanzo sits seiza, the body of a crumpled girl in front of him. Their hits until now have been against monsters and dangerous criminals. This one was meant to be a little girl, and Hanzo had refused to kill her. Instead he warned the family and thought they had escaped.

 

Not so.

 

The elders decided to do it for him. It’s clear she was tortured. Twelve years old. Same age as when Jesse first met Hanzo.

In horror, he watches as the little spark of hope he has spent so long fostering in his best friend gutters and dies.

 

All things are possible.

But disobeying the clan is not one of them.

 

\---

 

It's a cold night, the stars overhead too bright to seem real. Genji is leaning against the upper rails of the veranda that overlooks the pagoda in the center garden. Hanzo is beside him, not as relaxed, but not tense. Jesse is beside Hanzo, always.

“You could still run.” Genji finally speaks.

Hanzo scoffs, “Where? Where could I run to, Genji?”

“Anywhere! The world is out there.”

Hanzo hums, but it’s not thoughtful. Condescending, “And how would I live? What marketable skills do I have? My archery? That would be the biggest giveaway. Perhaps I could run a miniature drug ring in Montreal. How does that sound?”

“You could do anything, Anija. You are talented and smart. You just need to believe that. Please, we could go together.”

“Enough.” It’s so soft Jesse can barely hear it, but the way Hanzo body stiffens is loud enough. He’s shaking, fists balled at his side.

“Huh?”

“Enough!” Hanzo turns on him, still shaking as he roars, “Do you not understand? I cannot! It is not so simple. Even if I did, who would take my place? Who would run the clan when Father is gone? Should I abandon everyone for my own selfish desires? Should I forsake those members who are here out of debt and not wickedness? They deserve a competent leader!”

Genji has enough grace to look guilty, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows, “Father could just… Just train another. One of the elders. Anija.”

“Enough.” It’s not a roar, but a cold and quiet command. Genji looks hurt, broken. Then it is gone, snapped up behind a beaming grin.

“Guess you always did have the strong back bone, eh Hanzo? Fine, fine.”

While one brother buries his emotion in ice and anger, the other brother buries it in smiles and idiocy.

 

\---

 

Jesse doesn’t say much about Genji’s talk, not at first. A night or two passes until it seems like Hanzo has calmed down enough. He’s sitting on his knees, brushing out his long hair with an ivory inlaid comb. Jesse watches from Hanzo’s bed.

_You know, he’s not wrong. You could run. Be free._

Hanzo crumples as he sighs, like a marionette whose strings have been cut, “What does it mean to be free? I would be found. I have nothing to give. And I… By staying here and inheriting the clan, I can make it better.”

 _Better how?_ Jesse sneezes a dismiss at the notion. What? Were they going to give out balloons and candy now?

“No children.” Hanzo’s words are thick and choke not only himself, but Jesse too. They sit in silence, sharing the pain, as Hanzo resumes brushing his hair.

“I could set you free. I could release you from your bond. You do not have to suffer with me, my friend. It is the only kindness I can give to you. The same I have given to Genji.”

Terror races through Jesse and forces him to his feet. He snarls, ears back. _Don’t you dare! Don’t you fuckin’ dare!_

It’s surprising that no matter how old or hardened Hanzo gets, there are still moments when the wide eyed, fearful twelve year old returns. He turns and stares at Jesse, face so open it burns his soul.

“But I am… A killer. I will continue this path. There is no freedom. This is… This is my burden.”

_You forgettin’ I was there killing with you? That I was eating them down, literally?_

“Only by my command.” Hanzo pulls himself together, though he breaks eye contact as he does, “Only because I told you so. You could not disobey.”

Something about that doesn’t settle right on his fur. It makes him itch. Hanzo is technically right. Jesse has never once disobeyed a command, either to be summoned or to scout, but that… That has always been his choice. Hasn’t it?

Hanzo turns his head away. A sea of stars would feel closer than the distance settling between them now.

“In the future, I might have to ask you to do something deplorable. The only thing that would hurt me worse than being alone, would be seeing you hate me.”

He doesn’t have to see Hanzo’s shoulders shaking to know he’s crying. Something he hasn’t done in months. Not even when the little girl's body was brought before them.

Jesse surges off the bed, knocking into Hanzo’s shoulder and pushing him down. They tumble until hanzo is on his back, Jesse over him. He growls softly, paws on either side of his master’s, his best friend’s, head. _I’ll never hate you, Hanzo Shimada. I couldn’t. You are…_

Hanzo isn’t afraid. He is’t steeled up either. He is watching and waiting. A hand brushes across Jesse’s muzzle. Jesse closes his eyes and lays down on top of Hanzo’s chest, feeling his heartbeat.

“Thank you.”

Hanzo cries. They both do. For what reasons, the bond cannot tell. For stars and legends and missed promises. For the things that a new life will never recall, no matter how deep.

And yet.

Jesse still remembers the bullet.

“Maybe you are right. Maybe Genji is too. Father could raise another, train another. I… I will consider it.”

 

\---

 

It’s an overcast day, high noon, in the sleepy Shimada Castle.

 

It is the day Sojiro Shimada dies.

 

All things are possible.

Except freedom.

 

\---

 

A year passes, the clan shuffling between hands. The elders won’t let Hanzo rule, they keep stalling and saying ‘soon’. Hanzo knows he has to be patient, but Jesse is losing his mind. It is unfair. Hanzo has given up so much and they just keep asking for more and more.

It’s Tanabata again, but it is the late afternoon by the time Hanzo is done working. He sits in his room, Jesse by his side, eating a lush dinner.

_Were you going to go to the shrine with Genji?_

“No,” Hanzo sets down his chopsticks and eyes down, “He has already gone. I told him he should go without me this year. There is… Too much to be done. I cannot spend time wishing for things when I can make them happen with my own hands.”

_Ain’t healthy Hanz. Not a bad idea to have a little hope and fun._

“It is, though. I… My friend, the sooner I accept this, the sooner I can become…” Hanzo frowns, his eyes screwing up as if in pain.

Numb. Jesse presses into his side, nosing his elbow. A hand is tangled into his fur.

_Just one, Hanzo. Even if it’s practical. Give yourself one thing._

They remain quiet until Hanzo nods and stands.

Out by the pagoda, the large stands of bamboo have been covered in decorative ribbons, bells, and tied notes. Most are from the staff or other officials, their wishes to be carried to the stars. Jesse sits beside Hanzo as the soon-to-be heir writes down his wish. He ties it to the tree without ceremony and leaves.

Jesse spends a few seconds alone, watching the tag flutter in the wind.

_Let the Sparrow fly without danger._

Even now, tangled in grief and pain, Hanzo sacrifices for his brother.

 

Jesse howls.

 

\---

 

With renewed force, the elders continue to strip Hanzo bare. As things fall away, they focus on Jesse.

Soon, he is kept in the dark space more. Held there. Hanzo doesn’t have the heart for it, so they fashion him a bracelet covered in charms like the one on the shrines. It forces Jesse inside.

For the first few days he howls, angry and bitter at the entrapment.

But it becomes clear that fighting won’t let him out. It only hurts Hanzo. That’s something he doesn’t want. So he stops. He accepts where he is, watching the world through another's eyes, swaddled against Hanzo’s soul.

Once upon a time he had thought that the painful quiet that could come between Hanzo and himself was the biggest distance. Like a sea of stars. He was foolish.

This is the sea of stars. So close, and yet trapped from him. Jesse does his best to comfort Hanzo and try to retain the little pieces of his friend that are slowly dying. He catches them like falling snowflakes, gathering them to his heart.

Jesse is breaking promises left and right.

 

All things are possible.

Including silently watching your friend fall apart.

 

\---

 

They keep tearing Hanzo down. Run ragged, everything used against him. Jesse is used against him. They sneer and say he’s not strong enough to control his guardian. This is the best the Shimada-gumi heir can do? That he needs a charm to keep it in place?

But the one flickering part of Hanzo that holds out is his defiance about his guardian.

“It is my choice to wear it, and as the leader I will wear what I please when I please.”

When his own soul, his own guardian can’t be used against him, they get dirtier.

Genji.

They twist all the sacrifices Hanzo has made into a weapon. They use it to cut new wounds and make old wounds deeper. There is no remorse in their attack.

Jesse wonders if Hanzo remembers his wish, the one tied to the Tanabata tree. He wonders if Hanzo can think that far past his anger and fury. He wonders when he will finally get to destroy the Elders.

A storm is brewing and Jesse whines, wanting nothing more than to save his friend from the darkness that is gathering.

 

\---

 

Hanzo stares into the mirror. He wears only a towel around his waist, fresh from a shower and long soak.

“My friend. I know you are there.”

Jesse stirs, pressing against the bonds. Hanzo will sometimes murmur things meant for his ears, but he hasn’t spoken to Jesse directly in weeks.

“You… You have always been there.” Tears threaten to spill as Hanzo stares hard at his reflection, “You only sleep when I do. You wake when I do. You are trapped and yet you remain steadfast beside me.”

_I’m here. I’m here. You’re not alone, Hanz. I wouldn’t leave you alone._

“My friend, something… horrendous is going to happen. I… I have to,” Hanzo reaches out and touches his reflection in the mirror. It burns Jesse’s fur, his flesh. Trying to touch him. He wants out so bad, wants to press into Hanzo and smell him with his sharper senses, to feel his soft touch, “I have no choice, my friend, but I… I can still free you.”

Freedom? He thinks of the bracelet, of being out and about finally. Of getting to be beside Hanzo. Jesse is eager.

Tears wash down Hanzo’s face as he nods, “You won’t have to witness this. You can be free. You are a good soul, a good guardian. You could even become a deity, I am sure. You will never have to see Shimada castle again.”

No. Dread coils in his stomach. He pulls back, tucked in deeper into Hanzo.

There, again, is the wide eyed scared twelve year old. “Please, I...  My friend. Will you not hate me?”

_No._

Hanzo nods. His fingers stroke the reflection of his face in the mirror for a few more seconds before he pulls back. All the walls are back in place, carefully constructed to hold what little is left of him inside. Inside and safe from the eyes of the elders.

 

\---

 

Jesse is tumbling in the dark space, his vision stuttering. There are swords being clashed and the sounds of desperate pleas.

“Anija! You don’t have to --”

“ -- stolen from my family and broken your --”

It’s hard to get his bearings, but things are getting clearer as Jesse struggles. He has to be there for Hanzo.

It rushes to him. Drugs. Hanzo has been drugged and whipped into a frenzy and the person he is fighting, he is dueling is --

Sight comes back fully as Genji dives to the side. The sword slices through the tatami matted floor. Hanzo stands tall, drawing his sword up as he eyes his brother. Genji’s own sword is drawn, defensively. A cut above his eyes is bleeding.

“You will die for dishonoring the clan. For dishonoring my father.”

“He was my father too!” Genji’s yell is desperate, punctuated by wild eyes.

“Not any longer.” Hanzo swings, aiming for Genji’s legs. Genji parries and stumbles backwards. It’s a sloppy fight. Hanzo’s strikes are meant to kill, while Genji is doing his best to not harm his brother.

Genji runs. He’s faster and can get distance that Hanzo simply can’t. Hanzo sheaths his sword and takes out Stormbow. Knocking an arrow, he aims at where Genji has been seconds before.

“The wolf marks his prey.”

Jesse hasn’t been out of the confines in a couple months, and then suddenly he’s exploding out of an arrow. Except this is wrong. His head swims, but his body obeys. It chases after Genji, hot on his heels. He keeps telling Hanzo where Genji is, all the while screaming inside at himself to stop. He has to stop. What’s happening? Is it the drugs?

Or was it true he can’t disobey?

They twist around the estate, ending in the great hall.

Hanzo finally corners Genji. He draws his sword, steel singing in the air. Genji is panting, wild eyed as he looks around. Jesse’s body is beside Hanzo, but his mind is crying to pull back. That same, scared wide eyed look on Genji that Hanzo gets, hits him in the heart.

“It is over, Genji. Do not make this harder than it has to be.”

Genji shudders, taking a step back and further into the corner, “Why? Why Hanzo? You can fight this, you don’t have to do this! We can run!”

There is no answer, not at first. Hanzo raises his sword and points at Genji. His voice is cold and venomous.

“The wolf hunts for its prey.”

Jesse’s body stirs, pulling towards the target. A low snarl pulls back his lips. He is going to kill Genji. Kill Hanzo’s brother. Eat him, like so many others. Like Akira. Like the guards.

“Anija! Please!”

He doesn't want to kill Genji. Not at all. Jesse doesn't want this, this pain would be too much for Hanzo. It will destroy him.

Teeth sink into Genji’s ankle, dropping the younger Shimada to the ground. Jesse tastes blood, snarling around the skin in his mouth. Hanzo is approaching, Sword pulled high in the air.

“Forgive me, Sparrow.”

Part of him is resigned. He never had a choice. Never was his own being, even with all the memories. But something prickles at him, something so wrong. It burns on his fur. As he struggles, it gets worse. It’s like being on fire. It had to be the charm. The charm on the bracelet was punishing him for disobeying.

Well that was just fine. Jesse would rather die than let Hanzo emotionally kill himself.

The sword doesn’t feel like the bullet. It catches him in the gut as he leaps in front of Genji. Blood and organs pool out as Jesse drops to the floor. It burns all around him.

“Jesse!” Hanzo looks normal. He looks broken and terrified. Not the wide eyed twelve year old. This is the twenty-two year old who is losing everything in his world.

“No. No… No!” Hanzo is panicking, but it feels far away. Jesse is drifting. At least his Hanzo is back.

_Missed you._

“Don’t say that! Please, I…” Genji is finally moving, limping from his ankle. Something is getting shoved back inside him, but it’s distant too. Something is being wrapped around him, holding him together. Hanzo is pressing onto his wound and Jesse can see the bright red blood pool around his fingers.

“Jesse, please! Don’t go! Don’t go!” Funny, he never told Hanzo his old name. The memory name. But Hanzo is calling to him with it, as if he always has.

Words exchange fast. Infiltration. Overwatch. Safety. Doctor. Something is pushed into his fur. There is a sudden feeling of warm sunlight and soft clean wind that floats over him. Healing him just a little. Stabilizing.

He comes in and out as they move him. When he fully returns to focus, they are in the back guardian near the large cherry trees. Hanzo’s favorite.

Hanzo whispers sweet nothings between tears, stroking his fur as he does. He urges him to keep holding on, to keep fighting.

Jesse still remembers the bullet, the burn and bite of the lead piercing his body. He wonders if he will remember the sword, the slice of steel.

A shadow covers his face. Hanzo is tearfully watching him, hands shaking. Those wide twelve year old eyes back. Hanzo is back.

It’s a cool summers night, midnight, in the Shimada Estate.

Jesse closes his eyes.

 

\---

 

“Reckon this’ll be the last time I’m in t’see you, Gracie.” Jesse stands in front of a bar, a warm glass of whisky swirling in the glass in his hands. Gracie is a large gal, with warm honey brown eyes and straw blonde hair.

“Where ya off to Jess?”

“East Coast.” He tosses back the drink, savoring the burn. It helps him relax the nerves, “Train leaves t’night. Then, I’m on a boat over t’england. From there, lotta travelin’. Gotta work m’way down into China and then t’ Japan.”

“Japan? The hell you goin’ there Jess?”

“Well…” The letter in his breast pocket is heavy. He’s been talking for months to Daiki, ever since the two met back in Boston. “Work.”

“I’ll miss ya, Jess.” There’s no fire in her eyes, not anymore. Nah, Gracie stopped looking at him with passion once he made his proclivities clear.

Before Jesse can respond, a large clatter draws their attention. Outside, a man is throwing a fit.

“Jesse Mccree! If you think you’re going to leave this town with your life you’ve got another thing comin’!”

Of course it was him. Damn drunk of a mayor was always chewing on his hide, trying to get him arrested for no thing. Maybe it was time to finally settle their bill. Months of humiliation and dogged prosecution has made the typically laid back cowboy worn thin.

“If it’s a duel you want, it’s a duel you’ll get.”

 

\---

 

Jesse’s eyes flutter open. A cherry blossom has landed on his nose. Far away the sounds of gunfire and screams pulse against his ears. The scent of acrid smoke makes him wheeze.

“Please, there has to be something you can do.” Hanzo sounds afraid, his hair a mess, eyes fire red from tears.

A woman stands near him, a beam attached to his own body. She looks worn thin and worried, her eyes flickering back towards the sound of mayhem. “I am trying, but this is… I do not know if this is helping.”

“You’re a doctor!”

The doctor gives Hanzo a sharp look. Jesse would have growled at such an offense, but just keeping his eyes open is a gargantuan effort. “This is a spirit animal, no? I do not work with such things. Unless there is something wrong with you, he… He should not be hurting. He should not be bleeding.”

Quiet bleeds between them, joining Jesse’s blood. The doctor places a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, “Overwatch will save your brother and you. We will do our best… But I am afraid, there is nothing more I can do for your friend.”

She leaves. Leaves Hanzo to sob, clinging to Jesse’s rapidly chilling form. Leaves Jesse to remember all the times that this has happened.

 

When the stars refuse to align.

 

\---

 

Daiki Shimada had been a strong looking man. Not tall, but handsome, and with a regal face and nose. His eyes were still the same brown as they are now, but back then they were colder. The elders had already widdled him down.

Somehow, Jesse ingratiates himself with the young leader. Saves him from some drunk racists in Boston. They run away, clinging to each other. Away from the bleeding bodies. Away from the scene.

Daiki has the same black hair as he does now. Same voice. Same posture. Same little likes. Black licorice and tea and cherry trees. He also likes his neck being kissed, his chest fondled, and his body worshiped. Likes it when Mccree whispers dirty things in his ear.

It should come to no surprise, considering how tight the elders claws had been in Daiki that he’d just come back again as Hanzo. Jesse wonders how many times this has happened. If it would keep happening. If somehow they had nailed Hanzo’s soul down and kept it pinned in place.

But the clan, the elders, are going to be gone. Genji has done the impossible.

 

All things are possible.

Including freedom from the clan.

 

\---

 

Jesse awakens to darkness. He doesn’t know where he is, or how he has gotten there. He is amorphous, floating in the space. Neither wolf nor man nor anything else he has ever been. Grief wracks his soul.

He does not know when he will wake up again. He does not know if he will see Hanzo again, or whatever he will be called now. Maybe, having finally saved Hanzo, this is it. Jesse will fade into nothingness, his task completed.

Footsteps in the dark draw his attention. He turns, his body gaining clarity. Two hands. Two feet. Long legs and arms and a decent sized trunk.

The figure draws into focus, tall, dressed in robes of red and orange. His sharp, molton brown eyes do little to soothe Jesse. “The story of star crossed lovers… So many find solace in these stories, but to those that live it, it is hell.”

“Why?” Jesse’s voice startles his ears. He hasn’t said a word, really spoken, in years, “Why did this hafta happen? Why?”

“I am unsure. The universe has reasons of its own, or perhaps it does not.”

It’s too much to bear, the thought that Hanzo has suffered, that Jesse has suffered, so much for no reason. Tears trace his cheeks, angry hot ones that splash on the inky floor. “It’s always been like this, hasn’t it? Getting close for a while and then… Then somethin’ happens. One of us dies.”

The monk hums, “Yes. It would appear so. The Shimada-Gumi has kept their hands tightly around him for many, many centuries. His soul calls to yours, and you return desperately.”

So it’ll happen again? Jesse knows he should feel happy, happy that in the end he will see Hanzo again, but…

“... I can’t.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Taking a deep breath, he looks up at the monk, gaze steeled, “I can’t do that to him no more. The clan is… Is going to be broken. He won’t need me to save him. They won’t have that power over him and I… I don’t want him to hurt. I just want him… I want him happy.”

Silence stretches between them as Jesse weighs his words, understands them for what they mean. He’s afraid. There’s nothing here but infinity. Will he fade then? Float away? Or awake in a new time, forgetting everything?

“Is this truly what you wish, Jesse? For his happiness?”

He remembers Daiki, remembers his smile and happy laugh. He remembers Hanzo, and their countless planned adventures. He remembers those whose name have been forgotten. The princes and emperors and merchants and mercenaries. The long line of warm smiles and happy laughter and dreams. He remembers the way they make him feel. Safe and happy. He remembers his promise.

He remembers his promises.

To protect him no matter what.

“Yeah.” Jesse wishes he could be witty, give a fun little one liner. He really wishes he could stop crying, incapable of stemming the tears. It’s too much for him to hold onto in stubborn silence. Thankfully no one is here to witness the tears.

The monk shoves Jesse’s shoulder. A moment of vertigo spikes through him.  He’s falling, falling from the monk. He grows distant, but still his voice is as clear as if he was right there.

“Walk in harmony.”

 

\---

 

Jesse opens his eyes, gasping and confused. He looks around, trying to get his bearings. It smells of smoke and fresh flowers. It sounds of gunfire and screams . He tries to move, but pain in his abdomen makes him stop.

“Fuck!”

“Peace be upon you.” The monks voice? Jesse jerks his head towards the sound but it’s… An omnic. He’s floating off the ground, still wrapped in orange and red, “It appears you have finally awakened. Though, your sudden transformation has left us all with considerable surprise.”

“Transfor…” His throat is too sore and tight. His head swims, sensations changed so dramatically. Heat and pain crawl like a second skin on his body.

A hand touches his shoulder and Jesse looks to the holder.

Twelve year old frightened eyes gaze at him from the face of a twenty-two year old, “My friend?”

“Hanzo.” Jesse raises a hand - a hand? A hand. He has hands. He raises it and cups Hanzo’s cheek, fingers tracing the cool planes of his high cheekbones. They’re wet from tears.

“Jesse.” The doctor is healing his wounds. He has flesh now, a heart and lungs and boy howdy, he’s naked. Still, Jesse could not care less. He’s in Hanzo’s arms, alive. Hanzo is alive. The clan is dying, releasing their hold on him.

“I must say, this is my favorite ending to a story of star crossed lovers.” The omnic monk chuckles. Jesse looks back towards him. It’s only then he realizes there’s more than just the four of them. There’s some other men in the far back, and Genji is closer, looking scared and stunned. Everyone is unsure what to do, but the monk is taking it in stride, “The Universe is truly full of all possibilities.”

 

All things are possible.

Including finally being free.

And also kissing someone you’ve loved countless times over countless lives.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a sequel at some point in the future.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Comments and criticisms welcome!


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